Philip W.
Yelp
I used to work pretty close to here, and this was a regular take-out lunch for me. After I left that job, I even made a point once or twice to come back.
The first time I came in, I looked at the menu. They had a variation of teriyakis, but the one that jumped out to me was the spicy chicken. I usually like beef, but I thought to myself, why not go with a leaner meat this time, plus, it's supposed to be spicy!
From this point forward, my experience at this place has not varied from the first time I went to the handful of times, years later, that I went out of my way to come back and experience it again.
I give my order to the woman at the counter. "Spicy chicken to go, please."
She relays it to the cook in back: "Spicy chicken!". She pulls out a plastic bag, puts it flat and open on the counter, pulls out a salad and a couple cups of dressing, puts them in the bag, pushes it aside. She takes my debit card, swipes it, prints a receipt. I sign it, she spindles it. I step aside. The next person orders. Some time later, my teriyaki comes out of the kitchen. She closes it, puts it in the bag, throws in chopsticks, napkins, and a plastic fork. She ties the bag shut and makes eye contact. She remembers whose spicy chicken is whose. "Spicy chicken!"
The incredible thing about this system is that it's always the same woman, and she always does this faster and more methodically than I thought any human being was capable of processing teriyaki orders. When I came back, long after leaving the job, I was actually surprised to find that she was even faster than I'd remembered. Very rarely in my life have I ever met anyone who was as dedicated to, and good at, their job as this woman is.
One day I came in later than usual, and the place was going slowly. So the woman at the counter took the time to ask my opinion about whether the spicy chicken was spicy enough. I responded that it definitely was.
One thing that's either a small flaw or an amusing quirk, depending on your perspective. There are two entrances. One is just an ordinary front entrance. The other entrance comes in from a parking lot, and leads through a questionable-looking-and-smelling corridor into the restaurant. I found it charming--an indication that a good lunch, as often as ever, comes from a place that worries more about the food than about the back entrance.